


catharsis

by minachandler



Series: (girl)friends don't do that to one another [24]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 16:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minachandler/pseuds/minachandler
Summary: “You were right about the whole catharsis thing,” Dinah says. “To be honest, I didn't think I remembered how to cry. You know. Without shattering glass or making someone's ears bleed.”After a surprising revelation, Nyssa and Dinah finally come to an understanding.





	catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> Usual disclaimers - E rating, nsfw, yada yada. This is pretty heavy on angst but there is light at the end of the tunnel, my friends. Also thank you to Anita for reading the earlier draft of this for me.

“I’m still hungry. Why am I still hungry? Are the hotels on this earth all this stingy with room service?”

Dinah's voice is sharp and grating, simultaneously like and completely unlike the voice of the Dinah Laurel Lance Nyssa knew. Her words prick at the surface of Nyssa's shallow reverie as Dinah steps out of the hotel bathroom in bare feet. Dinah's barely dressed, wearing only her unzipped black leather jacket, which just about covers her nipples, and black lace panties. And despite everything Nyssa and Dinah have done together in the last few hours, the sight of Dinah like this, almost naked and yet completely comfortable, right in front of her, still makes goosebumps erupt on Nyssa's bare arms.

All the while Nyssa's been in the bed, wishing she could force herself to sleep, but to no avail. She barely realises Dinah moving to what has become her side of the bed to sit down until the mattress protests faintly under her weight.

“Nyssa?” Dinah says again, and when Nyssa finally meets Dinah's eyes, Dinah raises her eyebrows in question. Nyssa expects to see a scowl on her face, but she's surprised to see how much Dinah's features have softened after a few hours’ sleep.

“I believe there are still doughnuts left from our trip over here,” Nyssa says finally, gesturing to the bedside cabinet. Dinah scrunches her nose in a way so reminiscent of Nyssa’s Laurel that Nyssa has to look away as she adds, “And there should be some chocolate in the minibar.” She watches as Dinah's eyes brighten for a second and she gets to her feet, opening the minibar and indeed finding some bars of chocolate along with an assortment of alcoholic beverages.

“You want some of this?” Dinah asks, opening the chocolate wrapper and snapping the bar in two. Then she gestures to the open minibar. “Or a drink, maybe?”

After a second Nyssa shakes her head. “No, thank you,” she says. “While I am occasionally partial to chocolate… liquor of any kind is not to my taste, I'm afraid.”

To her surprise Dinah looks up, then nods, then shuts the minibar. “Okay,” she says with a shrug. “I guess that wasn’t a problem considering your Laurel's sobriety. Probably for the best anyway. Better to stay alert.”

“You do not have to do so on my account, Dinah.”

Dinah shakes her head. “I may be a super villain, but you should know that I'm not inconsiderate. Besides, it's not like they have whiskey or anything.”

And once again Nyssa feels like they're teetering on the edge of something that is more than just a lustful encounter - or several, she supposes - when their eyes meet in a sort of understanding that Nyssa's becoming accustomed to. Barely realising it, Nyssa extends her hand to Dinah, and Nyssa sees the flicker of a smile on Dinah's lips just before she hands Nyssa a piece of chocolate.

“I hope this is a good time to let you know that my friend Carol contacted me while you were sleeping. She gave me the details of a private flight to Nanda Parbat that leaves from Ferris Air tomorrow night. I know it means more time spent waiting, but -”

“That's fine,” Dinah interrupts. “Are we using the same aliases, Amina and Lois?”

“Yes,” Nyssa answers. Dinah nods, but there's a crinkle on her forehead as if she's considering something and she bites her lip. “Will this be a problem?”

Immediately Dinah shakes her head. “No, no, it's okay - just... Amina. That's a beautiful name.”

“It is,” Nyssa agrees. She hesitates for a second, takes a bite of chocolate and then adds, “Does the name mean something to you?”

At this Dinah looks away, and Nyssa doesn't expect her to speak at all when she does, let alone this softly. “In, uh, high school… on my earth, my best friend's name was Amina.”

Nyssa sits up in bed, pulling the covers up a little and settling against the pillows. “How did you meet?”

Dinah looks up and automatically smiles, and when Nyssa sees it meets her eyes that are suddenly glistening with warmth Nyssa's heart can't help but soar. But Dinah seems to realise this at the same time as Nyssa, hastily arranging her face into what she thinks is a more neutral expression, but still with that faraway smile in her eyes and the corners of her mouth.

“I, uh - she had just moved in on the same street as me. And one weekend I was on the way home from the mall with my mom and that was when I saw Amina first. It’s kinda hard to believe, but her - her cat was stuck in a tree and she was crying her eyes out, so I -”

“- screamed to scare it into coming down?” Nyssa suggests, and she’s only half-joking but Dinah still laughs, somehow seeing the funny side in spite of everything.

“Not quite. At the time I was actually - terrified of heights. But in that moment… I don’t know what came over me, exactly, but I was climbing those branches like they were nothing barely before I realised it. And then - I don’t remember exactly what happened, really, but my mom said that after I grabbed that stupid ball of fur with both hands, I flew from that treetop like a bird - her exact words - and landed right on top of Amina, knocking her to the ground and managing to dislocate my wrist in the process.”

And Nyssa finds herself smiling back. “That seems to be a memorable story. And perhaps that means you _were_ a hero once upon a time.”

Dinah shrugs. “More like she was mine. Amina never needed saving. Definitely not by me.”

“I see.”

“But what I remember more clearly is her being my first in a lot of ways - first real best friend, first kiss, first ‘I love you’. In that order.” Then she raises her eyebrows suggestively and adds, “Not to mention, uh… first time under the sheets probably before we were supposed to.”

“You loved her,” Nyssa says, and Dinah closes her eyes and nods.

“Yeah. I did. A lot.”

“So what about -”

“Ollie? We met in college. Amina and I met when I was thirteen.”

“Was this after you lost your father in that car crash?”

And for some reason it's like that spell is finally broken and Dinah's scowl is back. “I hope you're not trying to - diagnose me with some sob story to explain why I am the way I am. Quentin’s already tried and failed at that one.”

“That is not what I am trying to -” Nyssa protests, but Dinah leans forward on the bed and grips Nyssa's wrist.

“Let me save you the trouble. I am not the way I am because of some _tragedy_ in my past. I am the way the way I am because some people are just - bad. And the universe - whichever one I'm in - is infinitely cold and unforgiving, where shitty things happen, and I don't stop those things, like your Laurel did. I cause them. Because I’m one of those bad people. So next time we fuck and you tell me you love me when you think I can't hear, just remember that I am not the person you loved just because I saved a fucking cat from a tree a million years ago. I'm not her. And I never will be.”

“Dinah, I'm -” Nyssa starts to say, but Dinah cuts her off.

“And I didn't make bad life choices and kill people and cause chaos in my world and yours because of my daddy issues, or because I need someone to take care of me, or because Mrs Raatko died and Amina had to go to Australia so her father could look after her and never came back. I made them because - because -”

Dinah's hand is vicelike on Nyssa's arm, but Nyssa doesn't let herself flinch. When Dinah finally falters and lets go, making to get up off the bed, Nyssa's the one to tug at Dinah's hand, because her heart is suddenly racing as something clicks in her head.

“Raatko,” Nyssa repeats. “Amina Raatko. That was your friend’s name?”

Of course, Dinah seems nonplussed, enough for the flames of anger glinting in her eyes to simmer down a little. “Yeah. Why?”

”That name happens to be one of my aliases,” Nyssa says slowly. “I thought it fitting given… given I was told my mother wanted to name me after her.”

“Your _mother_?” Dinah repeats. “No way. But that would make you - you can't be my - no. That's not possible.”

Nyssa can't help but laugh lightly. “You are from an alternate earth with a sonic superpower and my father once owned a pit that could resurrect the dead. I do not think it a huge stretch to consider this particular possibility.”

“I don't believe you,” Dinah says bluntly, and when Nyssa looks into her eyes she can tell Dinah means it. “You don't sound like her _at all_ -”

“My accent is mostly because of the tutor I had who taught me English. He was British.”

“You can't be.”

“Allow me to prove it to you, then,” Nyssa says after a moment. Reaching over the edge of the bed, Nyssa finds her bag and opens her wallet. She sifts through a pile of cash and some receipts. “My father was never the sentimental kind,” Nyssa explains to Dinah, whose brow is still creased in disbelief. “I don’t think he even knew the meaning of cherishing memories. To this day, photographs of me in my infancy are practically nonexistent. And I never really knew my mother. But once I had - in my father’s eyes - reached womanhood... I was allowed to go along on missions. I had a certain photo taken when I was perhaps fourteen years old, in Corto Maltese, during the execution of a corrupt ambassador, by one of the few League members I trusted.”

Finally Nyssa finds, hidden behind a twenty-dollar note, a small photograph of her. She falls silent as she looks more closely at the photo. As a teenager she was different - naive, anxious to please at any cost, curious about the world around her. Her hair was longer, reaching her waist in an elegant braid, her face still with some baby fat in her cheeks, and although she had never really had any innocence, her soul wasn't completely filled with darkness just yet.

(It's understandable that she's grown to become unrecognisable since then.)

Her thoughts are interrupted, though, when she hears a sharp intake of breath from next to her. Then without warning the photograph is snatched from Nyssa's fingers by Dinah.

“Oh my God,” she says, sounding as shocked as Nyssa feels. “This is - you're -”

“After my father disowned me as heir to the Demon,” Nyssa says slowly, “I thought it fitting to make some enquiries into my maternal family history. My Laurel - she helped me, actually, as I had been in Starling City, as it then was, at the time. Amina is in fact a family name, for the firstborn daughter of all Raatkos, much like Dinah is in your mother’s family. I was supposed to carry that name after my mother, but given she was a mere concubine of my father… my mother didn’t have any say in the matter of giving birth to me, let alone naming me. So I was instead named Nyssa.

“Since I learned of your earth… I sometimes did wonder what my doppelganger would be like,” Nyssa says quietly. “I suppose now I know.”

“I guess now I know why I was drawn to you the first time I saw you on Lian Yu,” Dinah replies, and it's clear she's managed to regain some composure. Her lips are quivering as if she's contemplating whether or not to smile. “But you’ve changed. Since that photo, I mean. More than I thought you would.”

“You mean because I do not have your first love’s soul?” But Dinah doesn't say anything, just turns away and gets to her feet, and Nyssa doesn't try to stop her this time. “I'm sorry,” Nyssa says after a moment.

Dinah halts in her steps. “For what?” she says, her back still to Nyssa.

“Earlier… I told you that I knew who you were. That I accepted you for who you are and not who you so perfectly and imperfectly resemble.”

“And _now_ you realise you were lying to me?”

“No,” Nyssa says truthfully. “I was lying to myself.”

Finally Dinah turns around, slowly, until she’s facing Nyssa once more, all the while pointedly avoiding Nyssa’s gaze. Nyssa watches as Dinah shivers, pulling the jacket she’s still got on tighter around her body.

“You said you loved me,” Dinah says bluntly. “But you don’t. You love _her_.” Silence falls - maybe because there is not anything Nyssa could possibly say to deny that. “And I know what you're thinking.”

“Do you?”

“The girl I loved was - sweet. And kind. But she also had a hot temper and was ridiculously protective of me. She wasn't afraid of speaking her mind or disagreeing with me. And she… insisted that fate was real, that everything happened for a reason.”

“You don't agree,” Nyssa says.

“Damn right I don’t,” Dinah replies. “There's no such thing as destiny. There's no grand plan for any of us. No bigger picture. And me being stuck in a parallel universe for _years_ as a fugitive after being accused - rightly, by the way - of being a murderer and a criminal is not a way for me to reunite with my childhood sweetheart’s doppelganger and, I don’t know, see the light. You know why? Because somewhere, at some point down the line, something will go wrong and your plan to try and _fix_ me is going to fail.”

Nyssa sighs. “I never said I wanted to fix you. And you should know… I don't actually believe in destiny either.”

Again Dinah shivers, and Nyssa can hear her teeth chattering as she says, “You don't?”

“You're cold,” Nyssa says softly. “Come back to bed, Dinah.” For a long moment Dinah tilts her head to one side, considering Nyssa, and then she goes around to her side of the bed and gets under the covers. Nyssa waits until Dinah is more comfortable, before saying, “When I first spoke to my Laurel… properly spoke to her… it was at Sara's grave. And - I told her she was not fit to carry on the Canary mantle.”

“Ouch.”

“Meanwhile, she blamed me for her sister’s death and said that I showed Sara the darkness inside.”

“So she really wasn't that angelic after all,” Dinah says with relish.

“She certainly didn't think of herself as one,” Nyssa says. “In fact, I remember her saying that if she was any kind of angel, it would be the fallen kind.”

“And let me guess - you said something vaguely poetic about falling being a good thing?” Dinah says with a slight smile. Nyssa's brow instantly creases in surprise as she slowly nods.

“It seems some things don't change across earths,” Nyssa says quietly. “You and me -”

“- always and forever, huh?” Dinah says, and unexpectedly she reaches out and strokes Nyssa’s cheek with her thumb. It's such an uncharacteristically tender gesture that it catches Nyssa completely off-guard, and she barely realises she's holding her breath until she remembers to exhale. “I mean, I know you're not my Amina, but I never thought the day would come when I would finally find you.”

“I believe we always will,” says Nyssa. “Find each other, that is.”

Dinah raises her eyebrows. “I thought you just said you didn't believe in destiny?”

“I don't. I believe in making _choices_. And I believe our choices will always lead us back to each other, one way or another.”

Nyssa watches as Dinah folds her arms, looking sceptical. “Oh yeah? I don't know if you noticed, sweetie, but I think we've established that I don't make great decisions. I never have. Maybe I never will.”

And Nyssa nods, which clearly takes Dinah aback. “Maybe not. But you have already told me of a decision you made that changed your life for the better, that guided you to the first person you loved. I think that is what life is. Choices - the good and the ill-advised both. I, for example, had been taught my whole life that there are no such things as friends. Only acquaintances that hadn't betrayed me yet.”

“Who taught you that?” Dinah asks after a moment.

“My father,” Nyssa answers.

“I mean, I can tell you weren’t exactly fond of him -”

“I should have been the one to kill him,” Nyssa says, and she tries to reel in her savageness but there’s no mistaking the look of understanding in Dinah’s eyes as she stares into Nyssa’s.

“And I’m sorry someone got there before you,” Dinah replies, covering Nyssa’s hand with her own with genuine sympathy - from one killer to another. “I bet it was Ollie.”

Nyssa chuckles dryly. “How did you guess?”

“It figures some useless white guy would take your chance for justice. Just one of those imbalances in the universe that happen because the fucker writing your story doesn't care about you.”

“I can't say I disagree with you there,” Nyssa says with a sigh.

“But, uh, back to your father.  He doesn't exactly sound great, but don't you think on this one he had a point? I mean - there _are_ no such things as friends. Just people. And they leave you or let you down eventually.”

“For the longest time I agreed with his sentiment. It was only when I found myself with nowhere else to go that I reached out to a friend at last.”

Dinah sighs and it’s clear she’s trying not to roll her eyes. “Laurel.”

“I helped her when she needed it. I saved her life, protected her, and this time demanded nothing in return. And in a heartbeat, this woman who once blamed me for her sister's death befriended me, even when the team was telling her she needed better friends than an assassin. But she didn't listen to them. She was stubborn that way. And for some reason she let me into her heart and loved me with all of hers.” Nyssa can't help smiling, now, her eyes filled with fondness and warmth that she feels turn into liquid and drip down her cheeks.

She expects as much. Nyssa al Ghul has always found her problem is that she feels too much, so much so that people got burned with the fiery intensity of her emotions. And that left a void in her soul that she found she could not fill - until she met the Dinah Laurel Lance of her earth, who infuriated yet mirrored her in every way possible. Laurel understood her, helping her embrace her emotion as a strength, not a weakness like it was taught to her by the League of Assassins. So Nyssa lets her tears fall freely, now, feeling the sharp pang of grief in her heart.

What Nyssa doesn’t expect, though, is for Dinah to squeeze her hand, or for her ask quietly, “Are you okay?”

Nyssa manages a watery smile. “Careful, Dinah. That sounds dangerously close to concern.”

“You’re crying,” Dinah replies softly.

“You would be surprised at how cathartic it feels,” Nyssa says faintly.

“You want me to give you a minute?” she asks, and she's already getting to her feet. “I want to take a shower anyway.”

“Thank you,” Nyssa says gratefully, and she means it, even if in that moment she can't quite meet Dinah's eyes. Nyssa lies back in bed, turning on her side, listening to the sounds of Dinah's bare feet padding softly on the rug at the foot of the bed. The door clicks open and Nyssa hears a gentle thud as Dinah's jacket hits the floor before she steps into the bathroom.

Nyssa's waiting for the bathroom door to close, but it doesn't, and then there's the sound of the shower running and the shower curtain being drawn.

Still Nyssa just stares at the ceiling, noticing the tiny cracks she can see on the walls. She wonders how Dinah is feeling, if their being in separate rooms now is for Dinah's benefit as well as Nyssa's.

And she's not sure, really, why she decides to get up. The air has warmed somewhat from the steam of the shower streaming out of the open door, enough for Nyssa to push away the blankets and get to her feet and step towards the bathroom. She's a couple of yards away when she realises that Dinah is crying, actually crying, her breaths coming out in unsteady sobs that are only just about audible underneath the sound of the running water. And Nyssa knows she should probably turn on her heel and go back to bed, not intrude or let on that she's heard Dinah in a moment of weakness.

She's just about to do just that when the sniffling abruptly stops and a hard voice sounds from within. “I thought assassins were supposed to be more covert.”

“I'm sorry,” Nyssa says immediately. “I didn't mean to -”

“Nyssa,” Dinah interrupts. There's silence for a moment, and then she says again, “Nyssa… come in. If you want.”

After a second’s hesitation, Nyssa does as she's asked, and she can just about make out Dinah's silhouette through the shower curtain before Dinah pulls it back. Her eyes are red, cheeks wet, but she meets Nyssa's gaze steadily.

“Are you all right?” Nyssa asks.

“I hate to say it, but you were right,” Dinah says, offering Nyssa her hand. Nyssa takes it and steps under the spray of water, hot and soothing on tired skin.

“About what?”

“The whole catharsis thing,” Dinah answers, pulling Nyssa closer to her, so Dinah's body is right up against Nyssa's. “To be honest, I didn't think I remembered how to cry. You know. Without shattering glass or making someone's ears bleed.” Nyssa laughs. “But I was thinking… I mean - I think I get it now. How you feel when you look at me. Because I thought Amina was lost to me forever. I went looking for her, you know, after the Queen’s Gambit went down and I felt like I had nothing left.”

“And?” Nyssa asks.

“She was reported missing when she hit twenty.” Dinah’s voice is hollow. “No sign of her father either. No one had heard from her or seen her since. She was presumed dead, and there was nothing I could do. So I went home, packed up my stuff and moved to Central City. It was meant to be a fresh start, but then - the particle accelerator went off and I suddenly had this superpower. And you can probably guess the rest.”

“I'm sorry you didn't get better news,” Nyssa says quietly. “But if you ever go back… maybe you can find her again.”

When Dinah looks up, raising her hand to touch Nyssa’s cheek, running her fingers across her hairline, her eyes are shimmering as they meet Nyssa's.

“Maybe someday,” Dinah whispers. “Or… maybe I already have.”

It's impossible for Nyssa not to kiss Dinah now, because at long last this woman is letting her in, really letting her in, in more ways than one. Nyssa tastes tears on her lips and the remnants of chocolate on her tongue. Dinah lets Nyssa push her against the shower wall, hand dipping downwards until her fingertips meet the slick wet heat of Dinah's desire.

“Are you all right?” Nyssa asks, and Dinah lets out an _mm_ of assent before she pulls away, looks Nyssa right in the eyes, her irises on fire.

“Don’t stop,” Dinah says after a moment. So, fingers still at work, making Dinah inhale sharply, Nyssa ducks her head, kissing Dinah's damp breast, then catching her hardened nipple between her lips.

And it's hot, so hot, with the steam obscuring Nyssa's eyes, but she's found her bearings now, has acquainted herself with the map of scars and bruises that covers Dinah’s torso and back. Her hands roam down Dinah's back while Nyssa presses her body onto Dinah's. Nyssa's palms slide down hot skin, from the small of Dinah's back to the shapely curves of her hips and ass, and finally they settle on the backs of Dinah's thighs, pulling them apart so then Nyssa can put one of her own legs between them. Nyssa's surprised when Dinah reaches down to take her free hand and squeeze it tight, their fingers twining like vines for several long seconds before Dinah lets go.

This time Nyssa goes slow, and she sees she's right to, because Dinah's really sensitive now, her body shaking even before Nyssa's fingers brush Dinah's entrance. When Nyssa buries her face into Dinah's neck, pressing her hard against the wall, two fingers inside her, she can feel Dinah covering her own mouth with her hand to stifle the sound of her moan.

“T-too much,” Dinah says, and instantly Nyssa moves her hand away, then goes slower, her fingers dancing up her thigh, and Dinah breathes a bit easier now. Nyssa keeps her touch feather-light, soft, gentle, inching her way inside her again, teasing her until Dinah's murmuring Nyssa's name under her breath.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna make me say ‘please’,” Dinah says breathlessly, but Nyssa can hear a smile in her voice too. Nyssa doesn't answer, because it's turning her on, knowing she can do this to Dinah - make her completely fall apart just at the touch of Nyssa's fingertips, the pad of her forefinger finding Dinah's clit and then just as abruptly withdrawing. Dinah whimpers this time, and when Nyssa raises her head and meets Dinah's eyes Dinah doesn't hesitate when she says, “Nyssa… _please_.”

Of course, of _course_ Nyssa can't say no to her - she never has been able to, and yet somehow at the same time she knows Dinah is at her mercy and that sends a rush of searing heat straight to her groin. So Nyssa kisses her, hard and fast the way she's starting to learn she likes, her tongue in Dinah’s mouth, until she's sure her lips are as red as Dinah's look and when Dinah is panting for breath. All the while Nyssa's hand has stilled between her legs, and Dinah groans needingly, so Nyssa relents, kissing her again, slower this time, while she presses into Dinah with her fingers.

Nyssa swallows Dinah's gasp in her own mouth, while with her free hand she squeezes Dinah's hip, and Dinah's close now, really close. Pulling away from Dinah, Nyssa withdraws her fingers once more, and Dinah's about to moan in protest, but it ends up being a moan of want when Nyssa gets to her knees.

It doesn't take very much at all for Dinah to come the first time once Nyssa's put her mouth on her, and she's quieter, more controlled, but Nyssa doesn't stop, even when the wetness of Dinah's pleasure is pooling on her tongue and Dinah is so clearly spent. Nyssa's suddenly hungry for her, the primal part of her relishing Dinah's sharp, honeyed taste and how much Nyssa can feel Dinah's clit throbbing when her tongue darts out to flick against it.

Vaguely Nyssa registers the feeling of Dinah's hand fisting in her hair, the other cradling Nyssa's cheek and stroking her wet jaw. When Dinah comes the second time, her breathing is shallow, her hands shaking, and Nyssa watches, wiping her mouth with her hand, as Dinah sinks to the shower floor before Nyssa, so they're level now, her back sliding against the wet wall.

“You're not her,” Dinah says quietly, barely audibly. They're both getting drenched under the shower as Nyssa gets to her feet and Dinah accepts her help to get up too. “Amina, I mean.”

“No, I am not,” Nyssa agrees. “But I can tell she meant something else to you.”

“Yeah, she did,” Dinah says slowly. “Still does, actually. She always will. And she was - damn it, she deserves better than to be part of my stupid tragic villain origin story.”

For a moment there's silence. Then Nyssa says, “She doesn’t have to be.”

“It’s too late for me to -”

“It’s never too late,” Nyssa interrupts. “It wasn’t for me. So be better. Not for me or for my Laurel. For her.”

When Dinah kisses her, Nyssa doesn't expect it at all - Dinah simply stands on her tiptoes and lifts her face to Nyssa's. Nyssa feels Dinah's arms snake around her neck, and after several long moments that could be minutes, hours, even days - Dinah rests her forehead against Nyssa's.

“Okay,” Dinah says quietly. “Okay. I'll try. For her.”

“Thank you,” Nyssa murmurs back.

“And for you,” Dinah adds, and when they kiss, after almost two years without her Laurel Lance, Nyssa finally tastes the promise of a better day.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, phew, I'm tired too, lol. This is in fact a sequel to [intimacy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13734657) (nsfw), which is a sequel to [bird set free](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13779006) (nsfw), so if you want more shameless smut with a healthy dose of angst to read, those would be the ones to go for. Before you go, though, I would love to know what you think, so be sure to leave a comment in that box below. Thanks for reading!


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